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D8

So I survived my date. I’m going to try and write down as much as I remember so I can look back and scrutinize this later!

When I described the meet-up as a date, my mum was horrified. I asked her why she was reacting like this and what exactly she thought a date entailed. “Doesn’t it include kissy-wissy stuff?” – I genuinely face-palmed and assured her that everyone would be on their best behaviour.

Now the dude, let’s call him Mr K. He was travelling from Stoke to London which is a lot of effort so he got brownie points for that straight away. I met him at Euston and beat him there so we played ‘who can spot the other first?’. I told him I was near the information desk but actually I was a few metres away so I could run if I needed to. Safety first, ladies! But I spotted him and he did not look like an axe murderer so I approached him.

I had no idea how I was going to greet him. In the hour or so it took me to get to Euston, I stress farted several times. I also found myself becoming self conscious over really stupid things like how I walk and if my lips looked chapped. My mind was basically like this:

But I managed to pull myself together. I even napped a bit on the tube. The soundtrack to my journey was “Back to love” by Chris Brown because apparently I am a sap.

When I saw him, he hugged me and I responded on instinct. Thank god he took care of that decision because I would have been just stood there awkwardly if it was left to me. Or worse, gone in with a handshake as if it was a work meeting. Anyway the hug broke the ice and we said hi and stuff and starting discussing Avengers End Game (will post about that separately!).

I’ve been talking to him on and off for over a year but it’s been predominantly over whatsapp. We didn’t do phonecalls or videochats though I’ve received the occasional voice message so I was taken aback when I heard him speak. I should have put two and two together. He’s from Stoke. He’s a Northern boy so he’s going to have an accent. It was actually pretty charming.

I think the whole day could be summarised as “City girl meets Northern boy”. It was obvious he’s not from London. He let people off the tube first; he asked how literally everyone was; he didn’t walk aggressively fast.  In comparison I must have looked like a pushy angry Londoner lol. One of thing he said that cracked me up was when he said “wow everything is contactless in London”.

We made our way to Piccadilly Circus where he bought snacks and then we went to the theatre to watch Book of Mormon. He had an umbrella with him and joked that he’d probably leave it behind. I said I’d remind him (famous last words).

I’d been warned several times about Book of Mormon, that it was offensive and controversial. Those warnings were well deserved but I enjoyed it anyway. It was witty and crude. If I saw it online, I probably wouldn’t bat an eyelid but hearing it live in an audience of well mannered people made it shocking. We had awesome seats which Mr K paid for; I’m still trying to convince him to let me pay for my own ticket. He promised he would as long as I let him pay for dinner (which I did after some convincing). He sat quite close to me during the show and it didn’t feel awkward which is something.

Afterwards we went to Masala Zone for dinner. We have different attitudes towards food which to be fair is not surprising given I am annoying person to eat with i.e. I eat boring plain food and am not very experimental whereas he is a lot more foody and really enjoys eating. I eat to live, not live to eat, though my weighing scales may dispute that. During dinner, we had a proper chance to talk. It was nice that we could gloss over the bullshit opening questions because we already know each other. And it was nice to have this conversation in real life, and to be able to match words with a voice and face and gestures. Made it all real.

After dinner, we went to Snowflake Gelato for desert and I got chocolate ice cream *grin* and he got an Eton Mess. This was my favourite part of the evening because it felt like we were sitting in a little bubble and I got to ask him the real stuff… if I was what he expected, if it all felt weird, if he was happy we met. He answered pretty positively. I like that he didn’t try any mushy stuff like say he thought I was pretty or any other crap. Am super non-receptive to that.

It was here that the umbrella got left. Face palm.

We then headed to Oxford circus and parted ways. I hugged him – I had to to tip toe which he found amusing. Whilst I got home fine, turns out he couldn’t get a train home so was stranded for a while. He eventually took a train to another destination and got his cousin to drive him home. This must have been an expensive date for him…

After I got home, I got a mini interrogation from my mum. She went a lot easier on me than I expected… Are you okay? (I made it home, didn’t I?!) Did you like him? (Yes I did) Did he like you? (I think so) Will you see him again? (Yes most likely)

We’ve spoken a bit since then and one of the things that has cropped up is that he is a specific type of Shia Muslim whereas I’m technically a Sunni Muslim. These labels mean very little to me. I think they’re a minor issue for my parents but ultimately if I liked someone enough, they’d be fine with it. The rest of my family would likely kick up a fuss but I’m less bothered about that. Unfortunately my “Sunni-ness” might be problematic for his family. Call me egotistical, but I never expected to be a problem for anyone’s family! Either way, we both agreed to cross that bridge if and when it arose.

Why can’t anything be simple?!

 

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I told you so

So my dad thinks he can fix/fit/install anything and to give him credit, 9 times out of 10, he can. It just takes him a long long time.

Yesterday the weather was lovely so he decided it would be the perfect opportunity to fit the new window for our living room (which has been sitting in our garage for the best part of year).

It was all going so well. We removed the glass from the original window, walloped the edges of the window (I got to help with this – so satisfying) and painstakingly removed the window frame. Then we hauled the new window into place and secured it. Next was putting in the new glass.

To secure the glass you need to clip some stuff around the edges, almost like a border. However my dad wanted to put some ‘packers’ in first (learning the lingo) except he needed to remind himself how to do it so went off to watch a YouTube tutorial (I can’t make this up).

Meanwhile the glass is literally secured by the act of gravity and some duct tape. I warned my dad that this was too flimsy and he was adamant that it would be fine.

I kid you not. 15 minutes later, a gust of wind resulted in the glass crashing onto the floor, shards everywhere.

I learnt that my fight or flight response is screaming. Like a banshee.

I spent the rest of evening cleaning up and hoovering glass. Think I deserve an award for not telling my dad ‘I told you so’.

Given we didn’t want to get burgled, my dad installed the broken window (one side was still miraculously intact) and slept downstairs with a bat.

 

ePIC FAil

I GOT THE DATE OF MY DATE WRONG. AND HE KNOWS THAT I GOT IT WRONG.

I AM SO MORTIFIED.

WHAT IS MY LIFE.

IT IS NEXT SATURDAY.

53. So It Ends

Today was the last day of lectures for this year. For some of my friends, it’s their last lecture at Imperial which is totally surreal for me. I cannot imagine being done with my degree right now. The reason I’m staying on for a fourth year is less about wanting to do more Mathematics and more about how unbearable the idea of leaving Imperial and facing the big scary world is.  Even though it’s a year away, finishing my education and starting work makes me feel a bit ill. I’ve been spoilt in the sense that I’m used to seeing my friends everyday and I need that. It keeps me functioning.

The thing is some of my friends are going to leave this year and these are people who’ve been an integral part of my university life. Some of them are graduating and one of them is heading off to Cambridge (such a brainbox- so proud!). I’m so happy for them and they’re all doing what’s right for them… but I’ll miss them and that makes me sad. I hate things changing and I hate saying goodbye. There is nothing good about goodbyes. They should be called badbyes or awfulbyes or ihatehowthisfeelsbyes. I can already hear some of you saying ‘it’s not goodbye’. Okay fine I’ll probably see them at their weddings (or hopefully before) but I am very conscious of the fact that without the talk about lectures, coursework, university and where to go for lunch, what will there be to say? It scares that hell out of me.

Argh, I ought to cheer up. Today I finally handed in my bastard Statistics coursework and had my last M3T visit. For those of you who don’t know, M3T refers to visiting a secondary school on Fridays  to teach and examine how Mathematics is communicated. It’s forms a small part of my degree. But anyway, today was the last visit and I was kinda relieved. It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster. In the last 11 weeks, I’ve seen a kid puke up. I’ve heard a lot of colourful language. I’ve seen hissy fits, crimes against Mathematics, crying teachers…I could go on. There have been many moments of frustration and it’s been a lot more work than I anticipated but I’m really glad I did it. I have even greater respect for teachers and I enjoyed interacting with the kids and showing off my maths skills (by this I mean knowing my timetables and being fast at mental arithmetic- kids are so easily impressed).

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James handing in the last coursework of the year!

Also there was an incident today. I made the mistake of boarding the bus that had the local drunk guy on it. I’ve seen him around often. One time he unfortunately sat next to me and I was overwhelmed by the stench of piss, alcohol and vomit that came from him. I practically held my breath the whole way. Today however, he was next level drunk. He was sitting at the back alternating between yelling at everyone and muttering completely incoherently. He was literally pointing at people and shouting FUDGE YOU! and FUDGE YOU TOO MOTHERFUDGER! It would have been funny had it not been for the fact I was genuinely frightened that he might punch someone in the face, so much so that I got off the bus and waited 10 minutes for the next one.

Last but not least, I took this picture the other day and I’m not photographer but I liked it so I thought I’d share.

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Natural History Museum

Over and Out!

52. Presents Mania

Completely unintentionally, today ended up being a day of present giving. I love giving presents just as much as I like receiving them. There is an immense satisfaction in seeing someone’s eyes light up at the sight of something you bought. I’m probably just as excited seeing them unwrap their presents as they are. Gifts are personal things and I like to try and tailor them to people’s personalities and interests.

Onto the actual presents. The first was for my Mummy. She loves bags; every size, every type, every colour. I’ve had the same bag for the last 3 years and she’s had about 6. But hey she likes them so I decided to add another one to her (vast) collection. In particular, she’s been dropping (not so subtle) hints about Cath Kidston who is famous for her floral prints and oilcloth bags.

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Cath Kidston floral pattern

I went to the Cath Kidston store in Covent Garden and it was so hard not to buy the whole shop (but I’m brown and trained well not to spend any more money than I have to). Everything looks so cute in floral patterns. They have everything you can possibly think of: bags, purses, clothes, nighties, notebooks, plates, cups, key rings, cards… The downside was that they were bloody expensive. The plainest, tiniest cards were priced at an eye watering £3.50.

The second was for my friend Stefan who will be turning 21 soon but today is the last day I’ll see him before then. He always kicks up a fuss about presents. His birthday is on 1st April and the first time I tried to give him a present, he told me it wasn’t actually his birthday and refused my present. Don’t worry he accepted it later. He has a very…distinct personality. Let’s just say he could give grumpy cat a run for its money but it’s endearing in a weird sort of way….once you learn not to take him seriously.

I took great pleasure in wrapping his present in pink wrapping paper. I can’t share what the present is because he reads this blog (occasionally) and he’s planning on opening it on his birthday but I can tell you that it’s really cool!

The last present was for James (rather belated). I found a site called Red Bubble which sells t-shirts with all sorts of amazing designs. Run a search for Pokemon or Harry Potter and I guarantee you’ll be there for a good half an hour scrolling and thinking…want.. want…oooh… want. This one never fails to amuse me:

Also apologies for the lack of posting recently. I had a burst of crappy coursework which has been eating up most of my time *shakes fist*.

51. Party Sharty

James had his 21st birthday party at a really nice posh place near Victoria. Turned out to be an awesome night! Looking over my last few posts, it looks as if I go to parties/weddings all the time. I don’t usually- honest! This is a random burst of activity before the social hibernation that is exam revision time.

James was pretty clear about the dress code. We were to come in dresses which gave me the opportunity to get my bargain prom dress out of my wardrobe. I haven’t worn it in about 4 years but I had a really special prom and thus many happy memories associated with that dress. The only problem was that I had to take the train there. Where lies the problem you may wonder… well my coat is quite short and my dress is quite long and coat on top of dress looks pretty darn ridiculous. Add public transport and unwanted attention and you get a problem. What I ended up doing was tucking my dress into some jeans (yay creased dress!), wearing flats and putting my heels in a separate bag. I was also wearing tights under my jeans which is one of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world and the tights were so tight, they felt like Spanx aka. a corset for my legs.  Highly unpleasant. It also rained on the way so my hair, which looked nice and tame when I left home, looked flat and lifeless by the time I arrived. Greattt!

Everyone was looking super dapper, particularly James who was looking extra boom in a suit and tie.

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James and Shakira

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Me, Meeti and Suzannah (unintentionally wearing all black)

My friend Meeti has a special diet which essentially cuts out eggs, meat, fish, onions and garlic. James alerted the caterers about this and gave them a week to come up with something for her. At the start of the evening, Meeti was told that the Head Chef was specially preparing her meals and that they would be brought to her. It felt like VIP treatment and I was really impressed. Unfortunately they seemed to think her diet was also gluten free which imposes further restrictions. The waiter walked in with an impressive silver tray and lid and theatrically lifted it to reveal this as her starter:

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Vegetables

That’s right. Boiled veggies. We were rather bemused. For mains she got extremely salty aubergine and courgettes slices piled into a tower with spinach. It was probably not the most appetizing meal compared to the lamb and vegetable lasagna everyone else was tucking into. Things ended well though because James’ birthday cake was a beautiful, super tasty eggless cake that Meeti (and me) scoffed. Om nom nom!

I promised James I would dance (badly) at his birthday and I did. Me and Meeti kicked off our shoes and busted a few dance moves on the floor. About 20 of us performed the Macarena and everyone had great fun Gangnam styling. I think my rotating lightbulb dance went down quite well!

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$#%&%** EHHH MACARENA!

Basically…. I had a really good time! Woo!

Over and Out!

49. The Big Blue Finger & Uni Times

James won this awesome Big Blue Finger which we were messing about with all day! It’s not like I go into uni to work….

I kid. I do my fair share of work too but I always make time to play and have fun with my friends.

Oh and it was James’ birthday. Finally joined the 21 club. Happy Birthday blad!
We bought him his favourite ‘seriously chocolately’ cake from Waitrose which was munched down in about 5 minutes. Om nom nom!

Over and Out!